Five Wishes
by sass box
Summary: When Derek finds Emily's Christmas list, he vows to make all her Christmas wishes come true. Written for 1annie13 for the CCOAC Christmas Fic Exchange. NOW COMPLETE.
1. Emily's List

**A/N: **This is the first chapter of my fic for CCOAC's Christmas Fic Exchange for 1annie13. Merry Christmas, and I hope you like it! I'm going to have to keep the chapters pretty short for this one in order to get it finished by Christmas.

**Disclaimer: **As always, I don't own anything from Criminal Minds. I'm just playing with the characters for fun.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Emily looked out the window at the building blizzard and sighed, checking the clock again. At the rate the snow was falling – or rather, being whipped along sideways – the roads were going to be downright treacherous by the time she got out of here. Twirling her pen absently between her fingers, she forced herself to turn back to her computer screen and be productive for the next four hours.

The elevator doors creaked open and she looked up out of habit. Hotch strode out of the elevator, Jack at his side. His coat was soaked and speckled with half-melted globs of snow, whereas Jack looked like he'd been rolling around in the snow and been hastily dusted off.

"Hey, Jack," Emily said, spinning around in her rolling chair and giving the eight-year-old a warm smile.

"Hi, Em'ly," he said, as Hotch gently pulled off his coat and folded it over his arm, watching his colleague interact with his son.

"What are you doing here?" Emily asked innocently, bending down for a hug, now that he wasn't all snowy.

"School closed 'cause of the snow," he explained gleefully, "and Daddy said I could stay here. I have homework to do." He said the last sentence with pride evident in his voice.

"What's your homework, junior g-man?" asked Morgan, emerging from the breakroom with a piping-hot cup of coffee in one hand. He ruffled the kid's hair with his free hand, and grinned. Unlike most kids, Jack was mature and handled himself well in the BAU. He was content to sit and colour or do schoolwork in Hotch's office, and didn't make a habit of tearing around the bullpen and being generally disruptive. Of course, Jack's life experiences and father explained his good behaviour, but it was no secret that the team adored him.

"I hafta make a list for Santa," Jack explained, edging Morgan out of his chair. He grinned, showing missing teeth, and swung his legs back and forth. They dangled a solid foot from the floor.

"What do you want from Santa this year?" asked Morgan, sipping his coffee, and moving to put it down before thinking better of it. Jack was a good kid, but coffee and kids and computers weren't typically a good combination.

"Um," Jack said, furrowing his brow and tapping a finger against his chin as the thought, "A puppy would be nice, and maybe a new bike. And maybe Cranium. I like that game."

"So do I," Emily chipped in. "I'm unbeatable at Word Worm."

"What do you want for Christmas, Emily?" asked Jack, suddenly solemn.

"I don't know, Jack," Emily said, frowning, as she seriously considered it. "Besides all serial killers to stop killing? I'd like a new pair of mittens. Mine are starting to wear thin."

"That's kind of a boring Christmas wish," said Jack, looking slightly disappointed. "Don't you want a puppy or something?"

"I have Sergio. I'm not sure he'd love having anybody else around. He doesn't like to share," Emily said, smiling at the younger boy.

"Jack, why don't you come get your homework done in my office?" said Hotch, placing a gentle hand on his son's shoulder. "Emily and Derek have work to do."

"Bye," said Jack, waving cheerfully as he followed his dad up the stairs to his office.

"Cute kid," remarked Morgan, leaning casually on Emily's desk and sipping his coffee.

"He's adorable," Emily agreed, eyes trailing the third-grader's diminutive figure until he disappeared behind the closed door of his father's office.

"Are you actually going to write a Christmas list?" asked Morgan curiously, eyes glinting teasingly.

Emily checked to make sure that the door was firmly closed, before scoffing lightly. "What would I write? 'Dear Santa, I'd like humanity to stop killing each other and a new cat bed for Sergio, love Emily Prentiss?'"

"Yeah, I'm sure that's one of the most interesting letters he'll have gotten in a while," Morgan returned, draining the last of his cup of coffee and sitting on her desk. "At least you didn't ask for a puppy."

"I don't have time for house-training." Emily chewed languidly on the end of her pen as she regarded the document in front of her.

"You have absolutely no Christmas spirit," Morgan remarked, catching her gaze and holding it. "Do you even have a Christmas tree?"

"Sergio would pee on it." Emily clicked her mouse one last time and closed the document she was working on. She spun around to face him, arms crossed.

"A wreath?" tried Morgan, grasping for straws.

"I was planning on getting one," she replied lamely. "Next week."

"Em, it's Christmas next week," he said, arching one of his full eyebrows effectively. She felt slightly guilty.

"I know that," she said, trying not to sound too defensive and failing.

"Are you even going anywhere for Christmas?"

"Yeah. Home." She looked the antithesis of enthusiastic.

"Look, I know this job isn't great for Christmas spirit and all, but we're all trying. I mean, look at Reid's pointsettia. That thing is massive. Anyways, what I'm saying is, maybe writing that Christmas list wouldn't be a bad idea," Morgan suggested, putting down his empty cup on her desk. She pushed it away from her computer pointedly.

"It's not like I'll get anything on my list," she said, toying with her pen.

"What, you don't believe in Santa?" Morgan pushed, grinning irrepressibly.

"Not in this economy. Look, can I finish this report in peace? I'd like to not die driving home," she said, pulling the document back up on her screen.

"Fine, fine. I know when I'm not wanted," he replied, hopping off her desk and strolling casually back to his side of the bullpen. She honestly thought he was going to go quietly back to his desk and be productive, but halfway there, he turned around and proclaimed loudly, "You, Emily Prentiss, are a Grinch."

Grinding her teeth, she took a calming sip of her coffee, and whipped a piece of notepaper out of her drawer. She scribbled a title across the top, underlining it with a vicious slash. "You want a Christmas list, Derek Morgan? Fine. You'll get one."

* * *

"Oh, shoot. My updated copy of the current file is in my desk. Can I go get it?" asked Morgan, flipping quickly through his folder as if he hoped the missing sheaf of papers would magically reappear.

"Make it quick." Hotch checked his watch, and then the window. The snow was falling just as thickly as ever, but the wind had died down a little. Nature's fury had apparently calmed a little, but the snow was still showing no signs of slowing. Sighing, he opened his file and read over it again, just for something to do.

"Hey, would you mind grabbing me my coffee mug?" asked Emily, smiling angelically in Morgan's direction.

"Did you write your Christmas list?" he asked, pausing in the doorway and surveying her with an irritatingly smug smirk, arms crossed.

"Yes," Emily ground out, ignoring Reid's raised eyebrows. "I did, actually."

"Morgan," Hotch said, tone stony, "I'm sure we'd all like to get out of here before the snow reaches the windowsills."

"Yes sir." He ducked out of the room, tossing Emily a stealthy wink as he did so.

His case file was easily located; it was lurking innocently under another file. Of course, if he tidied his desk once in a while, this probably wouldn't have happened, but Morgan shrugged that off. Tucking his papers under his arm, he headed over to Emily's desk. He was just about to snag her coffee mug and go back to the conference room when a corner sticking out of her top drawer caught his attention. Feeling like a snoop, he pulled open the door gently and found himself face-to-face with her Christmas list. So she had done it after all.

It was short, taking up about half the page, and consisted of five items.

He scanned it quickly, trying to memorize it. Neatly numbered, number one was simple enough. She wanted a new hat, scarf, and mittens. He had remembered the tips of her fingers showing through worn black gloves, but it was easily doable. The next item was also simple, a pair of fuzzy slippers. The third item was no surprise. The two had bonded over their mutual love of Kurt Vonnegut, and she had written down 'Jailbird, Player Piano, and Slapstick'. The fourth item stated simply 'chocolate' and he had plenty of ideas of what he could do with that. The fifth and final item was going to prove more of a challenge. Apparently, Emily had decided that Sergio needed company, and another cat was at the bottom of her Christmas list.

Gently replacing the letter, he closed her desk and headed back to the conference room, already hatching a plan.

Yes, he was going to make sure that Emily Prentiss got her five Christmas wishes.


	2. Hat, Gloves, and Scarf

**Chapter Two**

Derek had it all planned out. Since not many boutiques would be open by the time he left the BAU at around six pm, he figured he would get Emily's first gift during his lunch break.

Now, being the sort of person who bought clothes from malls and only when necessary, he had a vague idea that there was a shopping district in downtown Quantico that had a small section of boutiques that catered to women. He could have asked Garcia, because she definitely knew more about the shopping places in town than he did, but he knew she'd probably ask questions, or worse by far, make assumptions. Even though the idea of going into one of those places scared him more than chasing an armed suspect, he wasn't going to be that cheapass who bought a good friend something from Walmart.

So, with this in mind and an updated version of the list on his phone, Derek snuck into the elevator as soon as his lunch break began, and headed out into the snow.

Prince Street wasn't crowded, probably because it was the middle of the day. He took a quick walkthrough of the boutique section, quickly eliminating one as too hippie, and another as too sexy. Somehow, he expected hats were going to be scarce in that one, and gloves would be of the leather and lace variety.

The third boutique seemed a classier place, catering to women like Emily: working professionals. With a sigh of relief, Derek opened the door. The bell chimed, and he looked around. It wasn't as terrifyingly girly as he'd expected. There was a rack of winter coats to his left, and a bunch of colourful scarves hanging from the wall on his right. And, to add to his luck, there were a display of gloves and mittens just a few meters behind the coats.

Working like he did when chasing a suspect, Derek zeroed in on his target and attacked. Or rather, he approached the table, and immediately began to pick colours that Emily would wear. He blocked out the reds and purples, and picked up the black leather gloves, lined with decadently soft rabbit fur. They were warm and good quality, built to last, and elegant. That seemed to fit Emily perfectly. Holding onto them, he made his way over to the hats. There seemed to be three dominant groups: beanies, Inca hats, and novelty hats trimmed with fur.

Upon closer inspection, Derek realized that most perps probably wouldn't take Emily too seriously in a hat with earflaps, and moved on to the beanies. There was a startling array of colours and textures, but he was drawn more to the soft, patterned knitted beanies. He rolled the plush yarns between his fingers, gauging warmth.

Once he had decided that all of them were pretty much the same, he was left figuring out the colour. All of them were gorgeous, some jewel-toned, some pastel. But the one he found himself pulled to the most was a deep ruby in colour, unbelievably soft under his fingers, with cables running up the sides.

Once he had decided that all of them were pretty much the same, he was left figuring out the colour. All of them were gorgeous, some jewel-toned, some pastel. But the one he found himself pulled to the most was a deep ruby in colour, unbelievably soft under his fingers, with cables running up the sides.

And, as if it was meant to be, a matching scarf was hanging on the wall across the room. With another relieved exhale, he hurried over to it, and took it down. He draped it over his arm, comparing it with the beanie in his fingers. The match was perfect. A small smile lit his face as he walked to the cash register, and paid for his items.

"She's a lucky girl to be getting these for Christmas," remarked the salesgirl, as she rung in the scarf and slid all three items into a small paper bag.

"Yes, she is," Derek agreed, as he took the bag and wished her a merry Christmas on his way out. She had no idea.

Once back out on the street, the problem was how to get the gifts to Emily without being too obvious or arousing suspicion. He was smart enough to know that putting them on her desk would be a very conspicuous thing to do.

Checking the time, he realized that he would have to do the drop-off later, at the end of the day. Hopefully, he could be in and out of her apartment before she got home. With that in mind, he drove back to the BAU and tried to focus on his paperwork for the rest of the day.

* * *

Emily was still working when Derek left at 5:30. He stood up and shrugged on his coat, and collected his bag, eager to be on his way.

"You're leaving early," said Emily, looking up from her desk as he passed.

"I've got some errands to do," he replied. It wasn't exactly a lie, so he didn't feel guilty about evading the question.

"Mmhm," she said, clearly skeptical. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

"You too, Princess," he said, and headed towards the elevator, trying not to whistle.

The doors slid shut behind him, and he grinned to himself, loving his role of secret Santa. There was something about keeping a secret from her that was sure to make her happy that made him feel good inside. He could almost forget the fact that there were stacks of cases on JJ's desk and loved ones reeling in the aftermath of their last case, at least for a few minutes.

If he'd been going the speed limit, he would have made Emily's apartment in just under forty minutes. As it was, the roads were dry and bare, and traffic coming out of Quantico was light. This allowed him to have absolutely no qualms about going about ten over, and making her apartment in about thirty minutes.

He pulled the tissue-wrapped package out of the paper bag, and tucked it under his coat as he headed into the apartment building.

It was just as swanky as he remembered. Tastefully decorated, it didn't stink of money, but it was obviously the home for plenty of government officials and well-off civil servants. Ignoring the looks of the men in suits and ties, Derek took the elevator to the seventh floor, and found Emily's door with no problems.

He heard Sergio meow curiously as he gently pushed the parcel through the mail slot, and heard it land softly on the mat.

Job done, he turned to head out, and the elevator hissed as it ascended. Even though he knew that there was no way it was Emily, a small pang of adrenaline exploded in his belly. Straightening up, he jogged around the corner, and flattened himself against it, just in case.

The doors opened, and there was a rush of escaping air. A familiar subdued clicking met his ears, and he allowed himself to peek quickly around the corner.

There, standing at her door and fumbling with her keys, was Emily.

Derek retracted his head like a turtle as she looked around the hallway, and glanced out again when he heard the door close and click shut. His heart was hammering in his chest, but he couldn't leave now. The temptation to stay and hear her reaction was too strong, and he poked his head out again, just in time to hear her soft gasp. Yes, she had found it.

"Sergio, who do you think sent this?" she asked the cat, and Derek froze to the left of her door. "Oh, they're beautiful."

Smiling, he headed for the elevator, and hit the down button. The doors opened just in time for him to step inside and hit the door close button. As they shut, he heard her door open, and caught a glimpse of her dark head peering around, trying to see if anybody was around.

Leaning against the elevator wall, he tilted his head back, and laughed. So far, he had one out of five. As far as he was concerned, almost getting caught had been worth it. He was just getting started.

* * *

**Hi guys, hoped you liked this update! All I ask is that if you're going to fav/follow, please get in the holiday spirit and take 30 seconds to drop me a review! It's a little discouraging to get 11 follows and two reviews, although many thanks to Nix1978 and 1annie13 for reviewing and letting me know what they thought. :) I promise it's going to get better from here!**


	3. Fuzzy Slippers and Books

** Chapter Three**

The thought of tackling the mall on the Friday night before Christmas was a little daunting. Actually, it was a lot daunting. The crazies would be out taking advantage of the extended hours, and doing last-minute Christmas shopping. The idea made Derek want to very generously spike his eggnog before heading out.

He still had two hours before he had to come to terms with the mall, though, and was finding it hard to concentrate because Emily was wearing her new scarf. The deep jewel-toned garnet looked beautiful with her ivory skin, and the contrast it made with her hair was striking. It was hard to keep his eyes off her and on his work.

"See something you like, Morgan?" asked Emily suddenly, startling him. She was smiling wickedly from ear to ear, and her fingers were buried in the plush folds of the scarf draped around her neck.

"New scarf, Princess?" he asked, hoping to divert her attention. He was as surprised as anyone when it actually worked.

"Yeah, actually. I came home from work and there was a package on my mat. This was in it." Her eyebrows knit in confusion, and then she smiled. "I guess I have a secret admirer."

"I guess you do," he agreed, biting back a smile with difficulty. Just four more days and then he could reveal himself as her secret admirer, but not yet. Patience was not a trait Derek Morgan was known for, but here he mustered all he had, and went back to work.

* * *

The mall was just as crowded as Derek had dreaded. Scanning the list of shoe shops, he chose the one that sounded the most like they sold slippers, specifically of the fuzzy variety.

It was a small store, and crammed with boxes and tables. A few patrons were milling around, but he dodged them. Humming along to Winter Wonderland, he headed for the wall with slippers.

The main issue would be deciding exactly which type of slippers were the best. Most of them were fuzzy.

"Can I help you sir?" asked a voice behind him, and he spun around.

"Yeah, actually. Can I get a pair of these in blue in women's size eight?" he asked, smiling nervously. His hands were stuck deep in his coat pockets, fingers toying with his phone.

"For your girlfriend?" said the girl, as she took a box down and handed it to him.

"Something like that," he replied, with a wistful smile.

"Well, these are our bestsellers. They're so warm and comfortable. I have a pair of them and I love them!" she gushed, walking him to the cash register and ringing the box in.

Feeling unusually accomplished, Derek took the bag and headed back out into the mall. It didn't feel as crowded as before, and he was in a decidedly more relaxed mood.

Deciding to kill two birds with one stone, he headed for the nearest Barnes & Noble. And that was when his relaxed mood disappeared, because there, lurking in the mysteries section, was David Rossi. It didn't take long for the Italian agent to catch sight of his colleague and wave him over.

"Hey, Rossi, what are you doing here?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light and casual.

"Just getting books," replied Rossi, arching an eyebrow. "Christmas presents, you know." He put down the novel he had been flipping through, and picked up another one.

"It is that time of year," agreed Derek, trying to decide whether hiding his shoestore bag would be too incriminating. As it was, nothing escaped Rossi's eagle eyes.

"What do you have there?" he asked, eyeing the bag. "I didn't know you shopped at Soft Moc."

"Just Christmas presents," Derek said, smiling. "It's that time of year."

"Well, I hope whoever it is enjoys their shoes," said Rossi in reply, checking his watch. "Oh, I'm going to be late for dinner. I'll see you tomorrow."

"That you will," he said, and watched the shorter man walk off in the direction of the cash register, a few books in his arms. He really hoped his cover wasn't blown, but thankfully, even if it was, Rossi wasn't the type to get involved in his teammates' personal lives. Still, he felt the awkwardness hanging in the air between them.

He knew exactly where to find Kurt Vonnegut, and five minutes later, he was standing impatiently at the end of the line. By the time he got to the cash, he was aware that his stomach was beginning to growl. On his way out, he considered rewarding himself with a beer, but quickly vetoed that when he realized that one beer would probably turn into two, and greasy pub food. Besides, he still had to figure out how he was going to get presents two and three to Emily.

* * *

It was just before seven am, and Derek had never been in the office this early before. Typically, he arrived around 7:30, and the work day began for Aaron Hotchner's team promptly at eight.

As he had hoped, the place was quieter than the grave. It was easy to slip the neatly gift-wrapped shoebox under Emily's desk and walk back out of the BAU to a nearby coffee shop, where he grabbed a much-needed coffee and croissant to keep him busy until 7:30.

Emily had just arrived when he emerged from the elevator, coffee in hand, and bag in the other. He disappeared to the break room to discreetly watch the scene unfold.

Folding her coat behind her chair, she pulled it back and sat down. Her foot bumped into something hard, and she bent down to pull it out. Surprised, she found herself with a brightly wrapped box in her hands, with no tags or anything to identify who it came from. She looked around, searching for somebody to pop out of the woodwork, and tucked it back under her desk, a smile on her face.

In the break room, Derek couldn't help but grin as he drained his coffee and tossed the empty cup into the recycling bin. She had no idea, and he was going to keep it like that for just a few more days.

* * *

**Thanks so much to everybody who read and reviewed! It made my day! I hope you like this chapter. I killed two birds with one stone to make sure I can get the finale chapter done for Christmas. As always, please take 30 seconds to drop me a review and let me know what you thought.**


	4. Chocolate

**A/N: **I hope you all had wonderful Christmases, if you celebrate Christmas. If not, I hope you had a good few days off! I'm sorry this took so long to get up! I got really busy around Christmas, and now things have settled down. I should have the next chapter up later today, and it's going to be the last one, so it'll be a lot longer than this one. Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed, your feedback was fantastic! Please keep it up. :)

* * *

** Chapter Four**

Emily found three books wrapped in golden paper on her desk the next morning. Instead of ripping open the paper, she forced herself to calmly tuck the package into her bag and get herself a cup of coffee instead.

Derek watched her from his periphery, a small smile tugging at his lips.

* * *

Chocolate appeared to be the easiest of all his tasks. Consulting the list on his iPhone, Derek checked his watch and decided that he would have enough time to hit up some of the fancier food stores in town after work.

Darkness was falling gently outside when he called it a day and headed towards the elevator. He adjusted his scarf so it covered the gap between his V-neck and his coat collar.

"Wait for me!" called Emily, as she rushed towards the elevator, pulling on her gloves.

Smiling widely, he reached out and held open the door for her as she stepped inside, hauling her bag up on her shoulder.

"Have any plans for Christmas, Prentiss?" he asked, as she settled herself next to him.

"Yeah, Rossi's Christmas party tomorrow night. Mother's in Chicago and doesn't get in till late the 25th. We're doing Christmas in DC on Boxing Day instead," replied Emily, putting on her hat and closing her bag. "Are you going home?"

"I'm flying home for New Year's. I was going to go today, but there's this storm blowing in and it looks like it's going to be big, so I rescheduled," he said. "So I guess I'll see you at Rossi's party. Do you need a ride or anything?"

"I think I'm good. Depending on the weather, I can't say when I'll be leaving," Emily replied, as the elevator stopped and she stepped out.

"Well, I'll see you there," Derek said, as they split off towards their respective cars.

He slid behind the wheel and headed off towards downtown Quantico, pulling into an empty parking space beside the local candy shop.

Inside, surrounded by walls of brightly coloured candies, Derek felt just like a little kid again. Forcing himself to not blow his entire paycheck on sugar, he turned his focus toward the chocolate section. This proved even more of a challenge, because at least he could tell and taste the difference between Skittles and M&Ms. Stuck between Callebaut and chocoberry, he went with the Callebaut because it sounded French and fancy, and picked up a box of chocolates as well as some ribbon candy. He wasn't sure how Emily felt about the sugary stuff, but it tasted just like nostalgia and Christmases past to him. The cashier gift-wrapped it in glossy cellophane printed with red and green bows, and he breathed a sigh of relief at having only one more thing to get. And, he couldn't lie, he was so excited for tomorrow.

* * *

The next morning, Derek was up earlier than anybody who was off work should have been. Even though chocolate wasn't as exciting as say, a cat, he had a lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it. "Clooney, we're going to have company overnight," he said to his dog, patting him, as he gathered his coat and gloves on his way out the door.

The drive to Emily's apartment building allowed him some time to come up with a strategy. By the time he was in the door, he was pretty sure he had a semi-solid plan. He took the stairs up to Emily's floor, and leaned against the doorway for a minute to catch his breath before sneaking down the hallway to her door, and slipping the package on her mat, and ringing the doorbell. As it chimed, he booked it down the hallway, trying to muffle his footfalls on the carpet, just in case she came looking for her secret admirer. Which, knowing her, would have been just like her. The last thing Derek wanted was to blow his cover now, early on Christmas Eve, over chocolates. It would have been an amateur's mistake, and he was no amateur.

* * *

Emily was lounging on her couch when the doorbell rang, and Sergio rocketed off her lap. Brushing the cat hair off her yoga pants, she headed for the door, checking the peephole just in case it was anything sketchy. When she saw no one, she opened the door and looked curiously around the hallway, Sergio winding around her ankles. At her feet lay a basket, wrapped in printed cellophane. As always, there was no note or card attached. Humming with interest, she slowly bent down and picked it up.

She closed the door and flicked the lock, fingers toying with the huge gold satin ribbon. "What do we have here, Sergio?" she asked quietly, seating herself on the sofa again. Pulling gently, she slowly undid the ribbon, dangling it enticingly for Sergio to bat lazily. The cellophane crinkled loudly as she eased it away, pulling out the first package, which contained pieces of Callebaut chocolate. Although not necessarily for eating by itself, Emily smiled as she pictured a chocolate cheesecake that was calling to her.

The next package was a small baggie of brightly coloured ribbon candy, the kind that she had found in her stocking most Christmases when she was a kid, presuming she was in a country that sold it. Nostalgia nibbled at her, as she opened the twist tie and popped a red piece into her mouth. It tasted just like memories.

At the bottom was a box of chocolates, the type that she loved but rarely bought for herself in the name of watching her figure. Removing the top, she took out the map showing which chocolates were where in the box. In the spirit of Christmas, she sampled just one. Smiling more widely, she reached out to pull Sergio close. "I definitely have a secret admirer," she said to the cat, who meowed at her in response. "And tomorrow, you may just have a friend to keep you company when I'm not around. How would you like that?"

Sergio meowed again and rubbed his cheeks against her side, settling down next to her.


	5. The Christmas Cat

**A/N:** Here it is, the last chapter. Sorry for the wait, the lead-up to back to school was really hectic and creativity-killing. This was so much fun to write, and the response was fantastic, so thank you so much to everybody who's read and reviewed! I hope you all enjoy, and happy new year!

**Chapter Five**

It was 10:45 on the dot, and Derek Morgan was back in Quantico, after dropping off Emily's Christmas Eve present. He had a vague idea of where the animal shelter was, and was driving carefully towards it. The road was slushy and icy under his wheels, and a light dusting of snow was beginning to fall.

He supposed he could have adopted the cat in question from DC, but he figured Quantico could probably use one less cat over the holidays. As it turned out, he had guessed correctly when he pulled up in front of the small building in a run-down strip mall. The sign over its window proclaimed, 'Quantico SPCA.' Sighing, Derek stepped out of the car and headed inside.

It was warm inside and smelled of a mixture of cat, disinfectant, and fir tree, from the small Christmas tree decorated with pet toys.

"Can I help you?" asked a young woman dressed in bright pink scrubs, and holding a marmalade tabby in her arms.

"Yeah, hi, I'm looking for a cat," he said lamely, giving a half shrug, as if to admit he was out of his depth.

"Any specific age? Breed? Gender?" she asked, bending down to release the tabby.

"A younger female would be great, but not a kitten. She'd also have to get along with another cat," Derek replied, as he followed her past the pen of kittens, and into the room with the older cats.

"Well, we have Darling here. She's a real sweetie, about seven years old, and gets along well with other cats. She likes plenty of cuddles and attention," the young woman explained, opening the door to the cage.

'As if Emily would ever own a cat named Darling,' thought Derek to himself, as he gently put out his hand for her to sniff. She sniffed it briefly, and then rubbed her cheek against his wrist, purring like a steam engine. He could definitely understand why they called her Darling.

The next cat was named Sparky, was a black female around two years old, with a definite aloofness to her. She was adorable, but he couldn't see it working out with Sergio.

"Do you have anybody else?" he asked, after the fourth cat.

"Why don't you look around?" she suggested, still petting Dora.

"Sure," he replied, and began to walk up and down the rows of pens. Everywhere he turned, big eyes followed him hopefully. It was a little like being in a room full of children.

One in particular caught his eye. She was sitting back in her pen, licking her paws. She was fluffy, not as long-haired as some of the tabbies, and a creamy white. Her icy blue eyes were keen and rather owlish. He bent down next to her, and she regarded him coolly. "Hello, sweetie," he cooed, feeling more than stupid for baby-talking to a cat. "What's your name?"

"That's Bella," supplied a voice behind him. "She'd be very good with another cat. We haven't had her long, but she'll go quickly."

He held out a hand for her to sniff, and she nosed it gently, getting closer but not as in-his-face as Darling had been. She headbutted his arm when he turned away for a second too long. He ran his fingers down her soft body, and she inched closer, purring. Derek wasn't a cat person, but she was working her feline charms on him.

The girl reached in and lifted Bella out of her cage, setting her lightly on the floor next to Derek, and the cat responded immediately to his touch, rubbing against his ankles and putting a paw on his knee.

"She's going to be perfect," he said, running a hand over her ears. "I'd like to adopt her."

"Sure, follow me," the girl said, picking up Bella again. The cat went limp in her arms, which didn't escape Derek's notice.

"Is she supposed to do that?" he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"She's a ragdoll. She'll do that every time she's picked up. Want to hold her?" She held out the limp cat in her arms, and Derek reached out, astonished by the dead weight in his arms. Bella lazily wiggled a paw, staring up at him unblinkingly. It was slightly unnerving holding a cat that had seemingly gone boneless in his arms, but she was reassuringly warm and fluffy against his bare forearms.

"Do you have your animal carrier?" she asked, as he marveled at the cat he was holding.

"Yeah, right there," he said, pointing his chin in the direction of Clooney's carrier, which he'd put on the floor. He gently slid Bella inside, and closed the door.

He carried her to the front desk, where she had the paperwork waiting. Scanning it quickly, he signed his name on the dotted line, and Bella was his, if only for the night.

She wailed unhappily the entire way home. It sounded almost like a crying child, and it kind of broke his heart. Clooney didn't help things by barking furiously as soon as the door opened, and Bella flattened herself against the back of the carrier.

"Shh, Clooney." Derek patted the dog calmingly, and gently held him back as he opened the carrier. It took a few minutes for her to poke her head out. As she did, Clooney jumped back in surprise, letting out a small yelp. "It's okay, boy," he soothed, as Clooney retreated to the living room, and let Bella reign over the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas," he said to the empty room, pouring himself a celebratory glass of eggnog.

* * *

"Come on Bella," Derek said the next afternoon, as he scooped her up to slide her into her carrier. He still found weird how she went completely limp when he held her, but she didn't protest as he closed the door. He wrapped a huge satin bow around the carrier, and locked the door behind him.

It was 4:30 on Christmas Day, and so he figured now would be a good time to drop by Emily's place. There was enough time for her to get ready for Rossi's Christmas party, but he could guarantee that she was awake and dressed.

Bella was mewling pathetically when he knocked on Emily's door, so he put the carrier on the floor in an attempt to calm her down. He heard her footfalls on the hardwood, and stepped back.

Emily opened the door, hair tumbling free around her face. She was wearing dark jeans, a plain red t-shirt, and a confused look on her face. "Derek?" she asked quietly, running her hand through her hair. Sergio approached from the living room and wound around her ankles, eliciting a meow from the carrier. "What are you doing here?"

"I believe you wanted a companion for Sergio," he said, reaching down to pick up the carrier.

"You didn't!" she exclaimed, hand flying to her mouth. "So it was you all along! I should have known. Come on in, and you can tell me about how you managed all of this."

"Thanks," he said, stepping inside her apartment. He'd never been inside it before, but it was exactly how he'd envisioned Emily's living space. It was elegantly but sparsely finished, with a few pieces of original art on the walls, and classic prints on her sofas and chairs.

As soon as he set the carrier down on the floor, she knelt and quickly untied the bow. It fell away from the taupe plastic, and she tossed it to Sergio, who began to bat it around the living room.

"Hello, beautiful girl," she cooed, releasing the latch on the door, and opening it. She straightened up and refocused her attention on Derek. "What's her name?"

"Bella," he replied promptly, bending down to get level with the cat. "You can come out now. You're safe."

"She's adorable!" Emily gushed. "Where did you find her?"

"I have my sources," Derek said, with a wink.

"Are you going to tell me what those sources are?" She quirked an eyebrow saucily, and folded her arms over her chest.

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," he replied, leaning in a little closer, then relaxing. "Nah, I'm just kidding. I went to the animal shelter in Quantico."

"Wherever you found her, she looks like she and Sergio will be a good match," said Emily, looking over to where Bella and Sergio were eyeing each other carefully, and then rubbed noses gingerly, appearing to at least tolerate each other.

"I think we just witnessed a moment," laughed Derek, running a hand across his hair.

"I think we just did," agreed Emily, putting one hand on her hip. She reached down to scoop Bella into her arms, and froze when she went limp. "Is she supposed to do that?"

"Yeah," Derek chuckled, closing the gap between them to stroke the soft fur between Bella's ears, "she's a Ragdoll."

"That's so weird," Emily murmured absently, shifting the cat's dead weight slightly.

"Yeah, I guess it is," he agreed, petting Bella again.

"Well, Derek Morgan, you did well," Emily said suddenly, raising her head. "You went and got me a cat. I still can't believe you went out and got me a cat."

"I'm full of surprises," Derek smirked, aware of how close their bodies were, but she had an armful of warm, limp cat.

"Got anymore?" she asked teasingly, looking up. Their eyes locked, and a bolt of electricity sparked between them. She bent down to put Bella gently on the floor, and when she straightened, his arms were around her, pulling her close. Their bodies touched, and he could feel the heat radiating through her thin T-shirt. He pressed his lips gently to hers, and her hands found his shoulders, deepening the kiss. His lips were warm and soft on hers, and she let him in hungrily, finding the release she'd been searching for.

When they broke apart, she smiled up at him. "Well, that certainly was a surprise," she said, somewhat breathlessly.

"Merry Christmas, Emily," he said softly, tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Merry Christmas, Derek," she replied, leaning in again. He was the best present of all, and she couldn't have asked for more.


End file.
